Childhood Creek
by The Angel of Mercy
Summary: Or Shit That Makes Creek Adorable. pt. 4 of the Sweet Creek Series [Creek] [platonic!Tyde] {request a two word drabble}
1. Love Bite

**1\. Love Bite**

It was a Sunday afternoon, and the day was as cold as ever in the small mountain town of Colorado. Children and adult were out and living their lives, and Craig was dragging his pouting, little boyfriend around town on an apology date.

"Yo-you're -ngh- a jerk," Tweek mumbled for the tenth time that day, pressing his cold hand to his right cheek. His other hand was warm in Craig's hold.

"I said I was sorry, Tweekers," Craig said for the twentieth time that day. "We're almost at your coffee shop. We'll get you a cup of coffee and then I'll go take you to the candy shop."

Tweek nodded, stilling pouting, and Craig pulled him into Tweek Bros. Coffee Shop. There was a little bell chime as they entered, coming from the top corner of the door. "Hello, you two," Missus Tweak greeted as she saw the two boys sit at the counter.

"Afternoon, Missus Tweak," Craig said politely, flipping her off. "Can you give Tweek something to drink?"

"Of course. Give me a moment." It took Missus Tweak a moment before she placed a freshly brewed cup of coffee in front of her still pouting son. "Are you hurt, Tweek?" she asked, concerned. She reached over and lifted her son's hand off his cheek. "What happened?"

On Tweek's cheek was a small bite mark, not too deep but not too light either. It was slightly red with a bit of embedded marks on it still, and it covered his entire cheek. "C-Craig -gah- bit m-me," Tweek answered, taking a sip of his coffee.

Missus Tweak looked at Craig. "Was there a reason you bit Tweek, Craig?" she asked calmly.

"Because his cheeks looked like marshmallows," Craig answered monotonously, "and I wanted a taste."

Missus Tweak giggled, finding Craig's answer to be so cute. "I think so too, Craig," she chided softly, "but you shouldn't go biting people's cheeks so hard."

"Ye-yeah," Tweek said, agreeing with his mother.

"I said I was sorry, Tweekers," Craig said, puffing his cheeks in frustration. "I swear I won't bite your cheek so hard next time."

"Ne-next time?! Yo-you -gah- going t-t-to bite me again?! Jesus Christ!"

"Well, yeah, Tweekers."

Missus Tweak giggled again, patting both the boys' heads. "You two are adorable," she said, smiling. "But Craig, instead of biting Tweek, why don't you just kiss him?"

"I already do, Missus Tweak," Craig replied, looking innocently at the Tweak mother, "but I want to bite him too. I like it when I Ieave marks on him like that."

"Does th-that mean you're -ngh- gonna bit m-m-me all th-the time?!" Tweek shouted, twitching. "It's going t-to -gah- hurt, C-Craig!"

"Nah," the chullo wearing boy promised, looking at Tweek with a small smile, "I won't hurt you, Tweekers. I won't bite too hard next time, I swear. If I do, you can bite me back."

Tweek yelped. "O-okay," he said, rubbing his hurt cheek, "but not t-too -ngh- hard any-anymore."

That made Craig smile, and he leaned over to place a soft kiss on the bite on Tweek's cheek. "Cool," he said. "Let's go to the candy store now."

Tweek nodded, getting off the seat with Craig. "B-bye, Mom," he said, giving his mother a wave.

"See you later, Missus Tweak," Craig said, leaving the store as he pulled Tweek with him.

Missus Tweak watched as the her son and his boyfriend left the coffee shop, smiling softly and think how adorable the two were.


	2. Warm Hugs

**2\. Warm Hugs**

Everybody has been wondering why Tweek was hugging Craig all day. True, it wasn't surprising to see them hug, but it was usually Craig hugging Tweek as the blond was always too nervous to think he could hug properly. It started at recess when everyone was outside playing, but Craig was being odd all morning, saying nothing but giving out his middle finger and looking all tired.

Tweek, of course, freaked out when he found out why and latched onto Craig since then. Now it was after school, and people were asking then questions.

"What's wrong with Craig, Tweek?" Bebe asked, looking curious.

Tweek looked over his shoulders, arms around Craig's waist. "It's -ngh- no-nothing!" he answered. "C-Craig just -ngh- want to g-go home. P-p-pressure!"

"If you say so. See you guys tomorrow then."

Bebe left, leaving the two alone for several seconds before Clyde and Token come out, stepping beside them. "What's up with you today, Craig?" Token asked.

Craig replied with his middle finger, but Token just rolled his eyes. "Is Craig okay, Tweek?" Clyde asked.

"C-Craig's got a -gah- fever," Tweek answered, looking at his friends.

"Is that why you've been hugging him all day?" Token asked. Tweek nodded.

"He was fe-feeling -ngh- cold. So I th-thought -gah- if I h-hug him, h-he'll fe-feel warmer."

"You guys make me want to throw up. Why didn't he just go home?"

"He probably didn't to," Clyde answered, laughing, "because he stayed for Tweek. Oh, my god, Craig, you're such a fag."

Craig replied with, "Fuck you, Donavon," and a middle finger. Tweek twitched. "Co-could you guys -ngh- he-help me get him h-home?" the blond asked. "H-He can -ngh- barely st-stand right now."

"Yeah, sure," Clyde said, grabbing one of Craig's arms and putting over his shoulders. Token nodded, taking Craig's other arm and put it over his shoulders.

Tweek let go of Craig to give space to let Token and Clyde to walk to Craig's house. "Cold," Craig mumbled.

"I-I -ngh- know, C-Craig," Tweek said, sounding worried. "J-just deal with -gah- it for a l-little while. W-wait un-until we get -gah- you h-home."

"Hug?" Craig asked, looking like a puppy.

"W-we need t-t-to -gah- get you home f-first, okay? I'll h-hug you -gah- th-then."

Craig groaned, whining, but nodded. It took over ten minutes to walk all the way to the Tucker house, and Craig was shivering the entire time. When they reached the front door, Tweek quickly pressed the doorbell, and Missus Tucker answered the door.

"Hello, Tweek," she greeted with her middle finger, "Clyde, Token. What's wrong with Craig?" She let the boys in.

"He's sick, Missus Tucker," Token answered.

"Oh, I thought when he dragged himself down the stairs this morning. Would you take him to his room for me? I'm going make him some soup."

"Okay, Missus Tucker," Clyde said, and he and Token started up the stairs with Tweek following right behind them.

Once they got into Craig's room, Token and Clyde carefully threw Craig onto the bed. "Fuck you guys," Craig muttered, giving his friends the bird.

"You're welcome, Craig," Clyde said, laughing. Token was laughing too.

Craig crawled underneath his blanket. His head sank into his pillow, and he sighed in cool relief. Tweek got up on his bed and sat right next to him, taking off Craig's hat for him.

"E-ewww," Tweek said, frowning at Craig, "yo-you're all -ngh- swe-sweaty."

"We should take off his jacket then," Token said, reaching for Craig's jacket and unbuttoning it. Clyde helped by sitting Craig up when they took it off of him. "That should be better."

"Cold," Craig muttered, reaching for Tweek. Tweek yelped as he was pulled down to lay next to Craig. "Hug," the sick boy demanded.

"O-okay, okay!" Tweek said, wrapping his arms around Craig's body. "B-better? Ngh!"

"Yeah, I feel much better now."

Clyde and Token rolled their eyes, having enough of the sweetness between their friends. "Me and Clyde are going to go now," Token said, walking out. "Get better, Craig."

"See ya," Clyde said, walking out too. Craig gave them the finger as a good - bye.

"S-see ya!" Tweek said, looking over Craig.

The door closed behind the two, leaving Craig and Tweek. "Man," Token said as they walked down the stairs, "those two make me sick."

"Yeah," Clyde said, "aren't they so cute together?"

Token paused for a moment, giving his friend a look. Clyde paused too, looking back expecting Token to agree. "Yeah," Token finally agreed, "they're so freaking adorable."


	3. Eskimo Kisses

**3\. Eskimo Kisses**

A pretty Sunday morning, and Craig was at home, eating cereal for breakfast in the living room. His mother was washing the dishes in the kitchen, his father was watching television and drinking a beer, and his sister was coloring something with crayons on the floor.

"Hey, Dad," Craig said, sitting on the couch and flipping his father off, "what are those two doing?"

He was talking about the couple on TV not kissing but rubbing their noses together. They looked really happy and were giggling like they were doing the silliest thing ever.

"I don't know," Mister Tucker answered, taking a sip of his beer and flipping his son off. Ruby joined and looked up from her coloring, and she flipped them both off. Missus Tucker peeked out of the kitchen and gave everyone her finger, and then she went back. "I think it's called kissing Eskimos or something. Go ask your mother."

"Don't just give him to me!" Missus Tucker shouted from kitchen.

"I'll give him to whoever I want!"

Craig nodded, getting off the couch with his cereal bowl, and went into the kitchen. "Mom," he said monotonously, "what's kissing Eskimos?"

Missus Tucker turned to her son with a raised eyebrow. "Do you mean Eskimo kisses, Craig?" she asked.

"What's that?"

Missus Tucker smiled slightly and leaned down to her son's level, and she rubbed her nose against Craig's, giggling a little. "That's an Eskimo kiss," she said when she was done. Craig looked at her with a confused face.

"Why do people do that?" he asked, totally not getting the point of rubbing your nose with some else.

"Well, it's just something people like to do. The Eskimos did something like that too when they greet family and loved ones because it's so cold in the Arctic that they even covered their face, except for their eyes and noses. It's a sign of affection."

Craig stood there for a moment, thinking something over. Then he put his cereal bowl in the sink and walked out. "Thanks, Mom," he said giving her the finger. She returned it in full. Craig flipped off his father and sister on the way out.

Outside, Craig started his way to his boyfriend's house. When he got there, he rang the doorbell and was greeted by Tweek himself. "H-Hi, C-Craig," he said, smiling. "Wh-what's -ngh- up, man?"

Craig didn't say anything as he leaned close to Tweek's face and rubbed his nose against Tweek's. Tweek yelped in surprised and tripped backwards. "Are you okay, Tweek?" Craig asked, picking the blond up.

"Ye-yeah," Tweek answered getting up. "Wh-what -gah- was th-that?"

Craig shrugged. "It's called Eskimo kissing. It's just rubbing your nose with someone you love and family."

"Wh-where did -ngh- you l-learn th-that from?"

"TV, and my mom told me about it. I thought it would be fun to do because she and the couple I saw on TV really seemed to like it. They were laughing when they did it."

"Wh-what's -ngh- so fu-funny about it? Gah."

Craig shrugged again. "I don't know," he said. "Want to try it again?"

"O-okay," Tweek said, stepping closer to Craig. Craig leaned in and started rubbing his nose against Tweek's, moving his head side - to - side quickly.

It was very odd, Tweek thought, rubbing noses together, but for some reason, Tweek started laughing and giggling, thinking how silly he and Craig looked at the moment, Eskimo kissing. "W-we -ngh- look really si-silly, C-Craig," Tweek said, giggling. Craig giggled too, smiling with his boyfriend.

They parted, giggles in their throats. "I like Eskimo kissing," Craig said, smiling.

"M-me too," Tweek agreed. "Can w-we -ngh- d-do th-that again some-sometimes?"

"Yeah, Tweekers. I would Eskimo kiss you all the time if you want to."

Tweek laughed. "Wa-want t-to -gah- hang out in m-m-my r-ngh-room? I-I want t-t-to -ngh- Es-eskimo kiss -ngh- a l-little more. It's -gah- si-silly."

"Okay!"

The author herself can't stand these two little loves and almost regrets writing this. Seriously, these two are so fucking adorable that it hurts.


	4. Note Jar

**4\. Note Jar**

It started one day in school. Mister Garrison was talking and talking and talking, and the time was slowing down ten minutes before the bell rang. No one was paying attention much to the lesson of Scrubs and how it's the most medically correct doctor show, unlike Gray's Anatomy. Tweek was on the verge of falling asleep and get in trouble, which was rare but there were days when he would crash from all the coffee he always drank. Those downer days were the hardest because he rarely experienced them and he would be slower than usual and quieter. It made people stare at him for being so _quiet_ and _calm_.

It wasn't a good day from the start. Tweek woke up and drank a cup of coffee. Then he proceeded to throw up, and his mother said that he couldn't have coffee for a while. "Too much of anything is not good for you," Missus Tweek said, thought she should have said that a long time ago. "It'll be alright, Tweek. You can survive a day without coffee. Just wait 'til school ends."

By the time he got to school, Tweek was already unusually quiet and not twitching. When he spoke, he didn't stutter as much, speaking slowly and sounding like he wanted to go to sleep. Mister Garrison, at one point, even asked what was wrong with Tweek. Cartman himself made a confused face. The answer Tweek gave to everyone was that his psychiatrist made him take new pills and the first hit made him sluggish. That was a lie, of course. New medicine made Tweek go crazy, an extra upper of sorts.

However, he did tell the truth when Craig asked during recess. They were playing handball with Token and Clyde. "The coffee got to me," Tweek explained, sounding very quiet and slow. He yawned, which surprised the others. "It happens sometimes."

"Are you feeling okay though, Tweekers?" Craig asked with the hint of concern. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly as he looked at Tweek.

Tweek nodded, yawning again. "I'm okay, Craig. I feel a little sad, but I'm okay. It's just for today, I hope."

Craig frowned, but he didn't get the chance to say anything more because the bell rang. Tweek started back to class before him. Lunch was the same, Tweek being quiet and Craig's face flat with a shine of concern. Ten minutes before the bell rang, Tweek felt like crying for some reason.

_It's okay, man,_ Tweek thought to himself. _Ten more minutes. Ten more fucking minutes!_

Five minutes later, Tweek felt like exploding with tears, which threatened to fall from his eyes. But then something flew at him and hit him on the head. Tweek just blinked in response, looking at the note. It said to open it in neat writing. Tweek looked to Craig, who mouthed what the note said. Tweek opened the note and nearly laughed out loud.

There was a carefully drawing of him and Craig standing side - by - side and smiling. There was also a sun, and it was smiling too. There was a small paragraph written neatly. _Cheer up, Tweekers. Don't feel sad. - Craig_

Tweek let a silence laughing, feeling awfully a lot happier. There was a smile on his face, and it stayed there since, When the bell rang, Craig walked Tweek home, and Tweek finally got his cup of coffee.

That wasn't the last time Craig gave Tweek little notes like that, and Tweek was happy for it. Craig would give him one ever once in a while. They were all different. Some didn't have drawings but simple sentences that made Tweek light up. Some had only drawing of something silly and funny to little boys. Some were song lyrics. Some were even Craig's attempt at poetry, which Tweek would always laughed at because they were so bad. Craig seriously couldn't rhyme to save his life. Tweek would try to give Craig these kinds of notes too, but his messy handwriting and twitching made it hard to make something nice. Craig, however, didn't mind.

"It's cool, Tweekers," Craig said. "I don't need you to pay me back. As long as they make you smile, I don't need anything."

Craig sent notes for months, and they all made Tweek really happy, cheering him up when he really needed it. He kept every one of them.

"Okay, children," Mister Garrison said one Thursday, "we'll have a fun day tomorrow. We're going to have a little show - and - tell, so if you want to show the class anything, you may. Just make sure it's appropriate."

Cartman raised his hands. "No, Eric," Mister Garrison shot down without Cartman even saying anything, "you can't show Mien Kampf. Principal Victoria doesn't want another Neo - Nazi meeting at school again."

"Goddamn it," Cartman cursed, letting it go to think of something else to bring to school.

"I'm going to bring Stripe," Craig said to Tweek. "What are you going to bring, Tweekers?"

"W-well," Tweek said, twitching, "I h-have -gah- an idea, b-but you -ngh- have t-to wait."

Craig pouted but nothing he did could get Tweek to tell him what the blond was going to bring to school tomorrow.

The next day, everybody brought something to show off. Butters happily talked about his favorite Hello Kitty doll. Bebe wore her favorite shoes. Timmy came in on his new wheelchair. Craig showed off his pet giunea pig. Jimmy told some new jokes, which everybody enjoyed. Kyle took his little brother, Ike, to class because he has a huge brother complex. Wendy present a brief slideshow of the charities she was volunterring at. Stan revealed secrets of the Church of Sciencetology. Cartman was sent to the principal's office for drawing a picture that glorified Hitler. Token sang a smooth jazz song just because he was black. Clyde demostrated some moves with his lightsaber. Tweek was holding a box.

"Is that what you're showing to the class, Tweek?" mister Garrison asked, disappointed. It wasn't even a pink or pretty box. The class groaned.

"N-no!" Tweek said quickly.

"Then what are you showing for show - and - tell?"

Tweek twitched and carefully reached into his box to pull out a jar the size of his head, and it was filled with pieces of paper that were written and/or drawn on. It was close to full and tightly closed. He held it in his arms.

"Th-this is -gah- a jar," Tweek started, "wh-where I-I keep a-all -ngh- th-the notes that C-Craig gave m-me -ngh- j-just t-to make me s-smile. He w-wrote -gah- and d-drew n-nice things f-for me, and I-I k-kept -gah- all of th-them. I l-love them -ngh- be-because they al-always cheer me up wh-when I need it. Th-they m-make me -ngh- laugh, and I-I some-sometimes -gah- like to look at th-them because C-Craig has really -ngh- neat writing. Th-they're really cool t-to look -gah- at. I-I brought th-this to show -ngh- and t-tell every-everyone that I th-think Craig's th-the best b-boyfriend."

The blond in front of the class said all of that with a small smile, holding dearly to the jar in his arms. A few people were crying, and the rest were smiling at how sincere and genuine Tweek was when he said all that. "How sweet, Tweek," Mister Garrison said, chuckling. "That's the most heart warming thing I've heard in years. You may go sit down now, Tweek."

Tweek nodded, walking back to desk with the jar in his hand. Then something hit him in the face. It was another note with neat writing to open it. Tweek opened it and smiled.

I_ think you're the best boyfriend too, Tweekers. - Craig_


	5. Sharing Food

**5\. Sharing Food**

Craig liked sweet things, like candy. Every kid like candy. "If you don't, you're either old or Asian," as Cartman would say. One of Craig's favorite thing to eat was velvet cake with a lot of forsting. Sure it was just chocolate cake painted red, but it was red. Red's a cool color. That was why Red Racer was red, because red is fuckin' cool.

So, back to the cake because that was what Craig was having for lunch as a snack. It wasn't an everyday thing, but his mom bought cake from a friend's birthday party she went to. She was nice enough that day to let Craig have a slice for a snack at school.

It wasn't a big slice, but it wasn't a small slice either. It was, like, two slices that wasn't cut into two, if you know what I mean. So he was eating during lunch, and he was with his friends and Tweek. Clyde was trying to get Craig to share some of that cake.

"Come on, Craig," Clyde whined, reaching for the cake.

Craig flipped him off as he pulled his cake away from Clyde's grubby hands. "I'm not sharing it with you, Clyde," Craig said in his monotone tone. He took a bite in spite of Clyde. "It's my cake."

"Can I have a bite?" Token asked, holding his spork towards the cake. Craig, again in spite of Clyde, nodded and let his black friend take a fair size, probably two or three bites worth. Clyde cried, which the author really enjoys hearing.

"That's not fair!" Clyde cried out, pouting. "You're so mean to me, Craig!"

Craig and Token rolled their eyes as Clyde cried. "J-just suck it -ngh- up, Cl-Clyde," Tweek said, drinking his coffee.

Clyde ignored him and kept crying. Token scoffed, rolling his eyes again. "Clyde, you big baby," he said, holding his spork to Clyde. "Have a bite of this and stop crying. Just leave some for me."

That was good enough for Clyde, and he stopped crying and took a bite from Token's piece, leaving some for the black kid. Craig rolled his eyes and flipped off Clyde while Tweek giggled at how Token was treating Clyde.

"Wh-what would -gah- N-Nicole sa-say if sh-she -ngh- saw you do th-that?" Tweek asked about Token's girlfriend.

"Ugh," Token said, taking his bite, "she'll understand. I can't trust to leave him alone because he'll run off to be a pirate with Cartman again or something as bad. If I don't, then who will? Craig?"

"Can't deny that," Craig said, smiling. "I'll probably just make him cry all the time. It's funny."

"You're an ass, Craig," Clyde muttered, crossing his arms with a frown. Token again rolled his eyes and patted Clyde's back in halfhearted comfort. Craig flipped him off again.

Craig looked at Tweek and noticed something was off about him. "Tweekers, why aren't you eating anything?" he asked, scrutinizing his boyfriend.

Tweek jumped a little at the question. "Hm-ngh-m?" he hummed as a response. "I-I just d-don't -gah- feel hun-hungry to-today."

"Okay, but did you eat breakfast though?"

"Y-yes. Ngh."

". . . . . . you're lying, Tweekers."

Tweek whimpered, looking a little guilty and clutching at his coffee. "I-I d-din't -ngh- eat bre-breakfast," he admitted.

Craig shook his head lightly and spooned out a piece of velvet cake for Tweek. "You have to eat something, Tweekers," he ordered. "You can't go the entire day without eating something, even if it's only cake."

Tweek, however, shook his head, refusing the offer. "I-I don't -ngh- want to."

Craig sighed, not pulling the bite away. "Come on, Tweekers."

Tweek shook his head again. "Come on, Tweekers. Eat it."

Again, the blond refused. "Please," Craig tried, giving Tweek a pleading look, which was just a frown with slightly narrowed eyes. That was a lot for Craig. "Eat it, Tweekers. For me?"

Tweek whimpered in internal conflict, but he took the bite, which Craig smiled at. The blond chewed the velvet cake in his mouth, looking a little less hesitant to eating. "It's -ngh- t-tasty," he commented, a twinkle in his eyes as he giggled.

Craig smiled, thinking how much he really liked his Tweekers, and he couldn't resist giving the coffee addict a kiss on the cheek. Tweek smiled and took Craig's spork, getting a bite of cake and holding it for Craig, who happily accepted it. They shared the rest of the cake together, smiling and laughing.

Across from them, Token and Clyde had to watch all of that. "It's like we're not even here," Clyde said, feeling disgusted at their two lover friends. Then he turned his attention away. "Let's go play, Token."

Clyde jumped off the table, but like an idiot, his leg hit the bench and fell off the table instead, landing on the ground on his face. He started crying like a baby again. "Goddamn it, Clyde," Token said for the nth time that day. He helped Clyde up, dragging him outside. "Let's go, you big baby."


	6. Drastic Measures

**6\. Drastic Measures**

"Alright, you two," Mister Tweak said, standing at the entrance of his son's room, "it's time to go to bed. It's almost midnight, and you need all the sleep you can get so that you can wake up and drink a cup of fresh coffee that is like a breathtaking sunrise and sunset, one that makes your heart flutter like butterflies, and-"

"Dad!"

"Yes, Tweek?"

"The metaphors, man!"

"Oh. Well, bedtime."

With that, Mister Tweak walked away, leaving Tweak and Craig to clean up and go to bed. "M-my dad's -ngh- w-weird," Tweak said, going to pick out his pajamas from his mess - yet - organized dresser.

"Whose dad isn't?" Craig asked, pulling his own from the over - night bag his mom packed for him. They changed before they headed to the bathroom to go brush their teeth and wash their faces.

"St-still," Tweek said, word muffled with his toothbrush in his mouth. Some spuds of toothpaste flew out into the sink when he said it. "I-I think -gah- m-my dad's FUCKING -ngh- w-weird."

Craig laughed, finding Tweek's sudden outburst to be funny. He accidentally dropped his toothbrush in the sink and toothpaste flew out of his mouth and at the mirror in front of them. He was still laughing as he picked up his toothbrush and started to brush his teeth again.

"Ack!" Tweek cried out, pulling the toothbrush out of his boyfriend's mouth. "C-Craig, it's -gah- d-dirty! Y-you have t-t-to wash -ngh- it!"

"It's fine, Tweekers," Craig reasoned, showing Tweek his toothbrush. "See?"

Tweek shock his head ferociously. "N-now way, man! Y-you -gah- could g-g-get a disease or s-s-something! What d-do -ngh- I do if I w-wake up and f-f-find you -GAH- d-dead t-tomorrow?!"

Craig rolled his eyes, and he washed his toothbrush with a once - over with the water. "Better?"

Tweek nodded, and they continued brushing their teeth. One more minute, and they both spit out the toothpaste as hard as they could into the sink. "G-gross," Tweek said, giggling. Then they washed their face with warm water.

Once they were done, Tweek and Craig walked back to Tweek's room, and they settled onto his bed. Missus Tweak came back to check up on them. "Goodnight, you two," she said, placing a fresh cup of coffee on Tweek's nightstand. Then she flicked off the lights.

The door closed, and Missus Tweak walked away. Then there was silence.

"C-Craig," Tweek said, snuggling close to Craig.

"Yeah, Tweekers?" Craig asked, wrapping the blanket a little tighter.

"Y-you s-sure -ngh- th-the underwear g-gnomes -gah- won't g-get me?"

"Yes, Tweekers, I'm sure. I got a lighter in my bag if I need to get drastic. Just say the word and I'll set the entire house on the fire with them in it."

"Ekkk! Wh-what about -ngh- m-my parents?!"

"I'll get them out before I do, then."

"Oh, o-okay. Th-thanks, Craig."

Craig smiled, placing a kiss on Tweek's forehead. "Anything for you, Tweekers."

* * *

**A/N: Any two words drabble request? Running out of idea but would like to keep this going. **


	7. Dancing Partner

**7\. Dancing Partners **_requested by SouthParkKyman_

It was nearing winter break, and a big school dance was coming towards them. Almost everybody in South Park Elementary had a date. Even Cartman had a date, but it was Jennifer Lopez so no one talked to him for a few days. It was . . . really weird to see the fatass bring such an older lady to school with him. Some were wondering how a dick like Cartman could score a date with someone like Jennifer Lopez.

Anyway, almost everybody had a date. Token had Nichole. Stan had Wendy. Kyle had to take Ike. Kenny had to take Karen. Clyde had Bebe. Craig had Tweek, sort of, no. Okay, Craig was actually having a hard time getting Tweek to go with him to the school dance. It was true that the Tucker wasn't the type to do shit like that, but Craig, having very high hopes with his relationship with Tweek (despite them being only fourth graders), wanted to do all that chessy romantic crap with his boyfriend, like go to a school dance.

What can he say? He was an emerging romantic, and he was blooming now. So, back to the story.

It was the week before the winter dance, and Craig had already asked Tweek to go at least seven times. I don't know about you, but seven is a big number. And seven times, Tweek said no, and Craig wanted to know why.

That was why the chullo wearing boy dragged the twitching blonde to Stark's Pond afterschool, asking his boyfriend why not.

"Please, Tweekers?" Craig pleaded in monotone. "Be my date for the winter dance?"

Again, Tweek shook his head. "N-no -ngh- way, m-m-man!" he cried out, twitching. "It's -gah- t-too much p-p-p-pressure!"

Craig frowned, a little upset. "Why not, Tweekers? It'll be fun."

Tweek shook his head again, looking like he was about to cry. "N-no!"

Craig sighed, frowning even more now. This was really upsetting him. He really wanted to take Tweek out to this dance. Sure, there would plenty of other dances after that one, but Craig really wanted to shove all the sappy couple things in his lifetime, especially the ones with the blond. Seriously, this was his first love, and Craig would like to make it memorable, even if his heart might get shattered into tiny piece.

"Why not?" Craig asked, sounding a little sad actually. "Is it because you don't want to go with a boy?"

Tweek started panicking. "NO!" he shouted, sounding frightened. He shook his head ferociously. "I'it's -ngh- n-n-not that, I -GAH- SWEAR! I want t-to go -ngh- with y-you!"

"Then why do you keep saying no?"

"Be-because I -ngh- can't DANCE!"

Craig was actually surprised at that answer, making his look at Tweek for an explaination. "I-i can't -gah- dance!" the blond continue, closing his eyes tightly. "It's -gah- like I-I have th-three one - dime-dimestional arms -gah- f-for fe-feet! I'll -ngh- tr-trip and b-break my -gah- sk-skull! It's t-too much -ngh- PRESSURE!"

Tweek settled into soft crying, sniffling here and there as he sniffled. Craig was going to dump him, he was sure of it, so now he was afraid. "I-I'm -ngh- so-sorry, Craig," Tweek choked out.

Craig softly wiped off the blond's tears from his face, gently touching Tweek's face. Then he wrapped his arms around the shorter's torso and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I'm sorry, Tweekers," the Tucker son said. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"Y-you -gah- not go-going to dump m-me?" Tweek asked, sniffling. He hugged Craig back, his arms around the taller boy's torso.

Crqig placed his head on Tweeker's shoulder. "Nah. The dance was a stupid idea anyway. We can dance here."

"B-but I -ngh- can't d-d-dance!"

"Sure, you can. Just do what I do, okay?"

Tweek stared wide - eyed at his boyfriend, freaking out about dancing, but Craig started out slow, shuffling his feet in the snow and moving them around the pond. The blond, of course, was completely confused by this, but the peaceful look on Craig's face said to trust him.

So, he did, and Tweek closed his eyes and placed his head on Craig's shoulder, moving the same way, shuffling his feet and moving around in small circles. This felt like a dance, and it started sounding like one too when a soft melody came playing from out in the distance, making music for this winter dance.


	8. My Superhero

**8\. My Superhero**

_" . . . it was heart pumping for local authorities and parents when an attempted kidnapping of a 11 year old boy happened in the small town of South Park, Colorado. However, I am glad to say that there was a hero who saved the young boy, and he was just as small. My name is Kin Jong Il, and this is Channel 13 news."_

* * *

Tweek sniffled, twitching more than usual out of nervousness than the caffine. And he looked like he was ready to burt into tears, sitting on the plastic chair outside of the hospital room. Everything just happened so quick.

Tweek was left with only a few scratches, but Craig . . . . Craig got _really_ hurt. The doctor said it was just a broken arm, of course, but Tweek felt really bad and worried about his boyfriend.

* * *

_It was a sunny afternoon, and Tweek and Craig were walking down the street, kicking up snow with each step they took. It was a Sunday, so the two had decided to go to Stark's Pond and skate with all the other kids who thought to do same thing._

_They turned a corner, and there was a white van parked at the curb, some loner white dude sitting on the open door. "Hey, boys," the dude said, looking at the two. "Want some candy?"_

_"Eeek!" Tweek shouted, creeped out by the dude._

_"No, thanks," Craig told the dude, flipping him off as he and Tweek walked away._

_"Hey, wait!" the dude called out, standing in their way. He pulled some brightly colored lolipops from his pocket. "Just take one, kid. I'm been wanting to get rid of them."_

_"Ahh!" Tweek squeaked out, shaking his head with his eyes closed. "D - dad said n - ngh - not to take any - anything from s - st - strangers!"_

_"Come on, kid," the dude said, pushing the candy towards the boys. "Just one."_

_"L - let's -gah- go, C - Craig," Tweek said, pulling at Craig's sleeve._

_"Okay, Tweek," Craig said, going along with Tweek as he flipped the dude off again. They then started to walk around the dude._

_That, apprently, made the white dude angry, and he grabbed at Craig, who was startled. "What the fuck are you doing?" Craig said tonelessly, but his eyebrows burrowed a little on his face. "Let go, asshole!"_

_"Come on, kid," the dude said, ignoring Craig as he dragged the boy into the white van._

_"Ack!" Tweek screamed, panicking at what was happening. He saw Craig resisting the attempt to be shoved into the van, but Tweek knew that Craig was too small and would be easily overpowered. The blond spaz kicked the dude's shin to save his boyfriend. "L - l - let him go! JESUS CHRIST!"_

_The kick was a hard kick, enough to make the dude fall down to his knee and accidently pushing Craig away, Craig falling onto his right arm in order to stop his face from landing on the cement ground._

_"Why you little bitch!" the dude yelled, angrily reached his arms at Tweek, who stepped back in fear. "I'm going to kill you."_

_Tweek screamed as the dude reached for him again, shutting his eyes as tight as possible._

_But nothing grabbed at him. "What's going on here?" asked a South Oark police officer from his car. The cop stepped out._

_"He's tried to kidnap me!" Craig said, pointing at the dude. Tweek was trembling only a few feet away, looking really, really scared._

_"He's lying, officer!" the dude argued, standing up on his hurt leg. "These little brat were bothering me, calling me fat."_

_"Hmm," the officer hummed, taking a good look at the dude. Then he pulled out a printed copy of a picture. The picture was a mugshot of a white dude, his name Whit E. du De. "Sir, you're under arrest for looking like the white dude on this wanted poster."_

* * *

That was an hour ago, and Tweek was worried out of his mind. His parents and Craig's rushed to the hospital as soon as they were contacted. Mister and Missus Tucker were taken to Craig when they arrived, and Mister and Missus Tweak were waiting outside with Tweek.

"Son," Mister Tweak said, surprising Tweek to shout. The boy was pulling at his hair. "There's nothing to be worried about. Craig will be fine."

"W - w - we don't -ngh- know th - that," Tweek stuttered, letting go of his hair when his mother took a hold of his hands "Gah!"

"It was just a broken arm, Tweek," Missus Tweak assured gently. "The doctor will fix him right up. Craig will be fine, sweetie."

Tweek only made a sound from the back of his throat in response, choosing to remain silent because he was starting to stutter severely that he might bite tongue and die.

Then the door opened, and the Tucker family walked out with the doctor. Craig was on his feet, his right arm bundled up in a cast and a sling around his neck. "See, sweetie?" Missus Tweak said to her son. "Craig is alright. Everything will be fine."

Tweek bursted out into tears, which surprised everyone. "N - no, he's -gah- not," he said, sobbing. "H - his -gah- arm's all w - weird -ngh- n - now! H - he's b - broken!"

The adults found themselves cooing at Tweek's innocence. It seems that the boy didn't know what a cast was. "Oh, he's not broken, Tweek," Mister Tucker said. "My boy's tough."

"That's true," Missus Tucker added. "His arm is not going to be like forever. The doctor will take it off in a few weeks."

"You're going to take off his arm?!" Tweek screamed, crying harder now. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

"No, of course not!" the doctor assured. "We're just going to take off the cast on his arm, son. There'll be no removing of limbs."

"He's going to be limp?! GAH! CRAIG'S BROKEN!"

Though it seemed impossible, Tweek cried harder, his sobs echoing off the walls of the hallway. "Since Craig's doing alright," Mister Tweak said over the crying, "we'll be going now. Let's get our sons some rest after what happened today."

"That's a good idea," said Missus Tucker. "We'll thank Tweek later when he's calmed down. Come on, Craig. We'll see the Tweaks later."

Craig shook his head, flipping off the doctor, who was offended by the gesture and stormed out of the hospital. "Tweekers," he said to the blond, who didn't hear him. "Tweekers!"

Tweek's sobs stopped, falling into loud sniffles and sobbing chokes. The spaz looked at the blank expressing boy, eyes wet and cheek tear stained. "C - Craig?" he said quietly.

"I'm okay, Tweekers," Craig told him, standing closely to Tweek. "I'm not broken. My arm is. I'm okay. So stop crying, yeah?"

"B - but . . . "

"But?"

"I was - ngh- s - s - scared! H - he -GAH- tried to t - t - take you away!" Tweek started crying again, though quietly and shaking.

Craig made no sound, taking one step closer so that his face was mere inches from Tweek's. "You don't have to be scared anymore, Tweeker," Craig said, holding onto one of Tweek's hands. "I'm still here, aren't I? I think you did really good. When you kicked the guy, you were like a superhero."

"S - superhero?" Tweek repeated, sniffling. "Th - that's -ngh- crazy, C - Craig."

"That's what you think, but you are a superhero, Tweekers. What's better is that you're _my_superhero. And do you know what superheros get when they rescue someone?"

Tweek shook his head. Craig let a little smile on his blank face. "They get a kiss," the chullo - wearing boy answered, placing a soft and gentle kiss on Tweek's cheek, and that made the blond light up with joy. He was no longer crying but smiling and giggling at the thought of being a superhero.

"C'mon, Tweekers," Craig said, pulling Tweek off the the plastic hospital chair. "Let's go to my house and play with Stripe.

"O - okay," Tweek agreed, letting Craig drag him along. The two walked away, not noticing that they lef their parents behind. They didn't even notice the smiles their mothers had.


	9. Guinea Pig

**9\. Guinea Pig** requested by GE_PIP_SP (the underscores are actually periods but the doc won't register it properly)

"H - Hi, -gah- S - Stripe," Tweek greeted when he came into Craig's room. School just ended less than an half hour ago, and Craig invited him over. And everything Tweek came over, he always go to the cage placed carefully on top of the dresser and greet the guinea pig that lived in it.

The guinea pig, in response, ignored the blond spaz and continued to burrow himself into the filling on the bottom of the cage. However, that didn't hurt Tweek's feeling or anything. Stripe was much too important to be bother to reply to a greeting.

"I don't think you ever held him before, Tweekers," Craig said, standing right next to Tweek at the dresser. Their chin barely reached the top of the furniture. The chullo wearing boy reached for the cage door and pulled Stripe out, holding the pet in his hands. "Here, Tweekers."

"Ahhhhh!" Tweek shouted, backing away from the squeaking animal as he shook his head. "N - no -ngh- way, C - Craig!"

Craig frowned. "Why not?" he asked, a little insulted. Everybody wanted to hold Stripe.

Tweek was still shaking his head. "W - What i - if I -gah- drop him? Jesus Christ! Th - Then S - Stripe's going DIE! NO!"

Craig rolled his eyes, getting a better picture now. "It's fine, Tweekers. Stripe's man enough to survive a three feet drop."

Tweek still refused, shoving his arms under his pits in case Craig try to force Stripe on him. To be extra sure, the blond turned around and closed his eyes, sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed. "N - ngh - no," he said as a final answer.

Craig pouted, Stripe still in his hand. Maybe he should let it go, but that idea was quickly forgotten because Craig wanted Tweek to be comfortable with Stripe. You see, Stripe and Tweek are two of the most important things in short life of fourth grader Craig Tucker. That was reason enough for Craig to want the both of them to get along.

Getting a good idea and running with it without any actual though, Craig carried Stripe over to Tweek, stopping only a foot away. He sat down and held Stripe in front of his face. "Hi, Tweek," he said, his voice deeper than usual. That was because Stripe was a man, and a man has a deep voice. "It's me, Stripe."

The change of voice made Tweek jump up in slight fear, but he took a look over his shoulder. He burst out in a childish giggle when he saw Craig swing Stripe side to side in small movements. "W - What -gah- are you do - doing, C - Craig?" he asked, turned full back around as he giggled into his hand.

"My name's not Craig," Craig said in his deep as possible voice. "My name is Stripe, and I want to know why you won't hold me. I'm a fluffy rodent, Tweek. Who doesn't want to hold me? Don't you like me?"

Tweek giggled even louder. "O - of course, I -gah- like you, S - Stripe."

"Really? Then why won't you hold me? I'm dog damned adorable, Tweek."

Tweek stopped giggling, putting on a pout with his bottom lip stuck out. "I'm -ngh- just worried I'd d - dr - drop you. C - Craig w - w - would n - ngh - never forgive me if I k - killed you!"

Stripe was tilted to the right slightly, making it seem like he was confused. "Is that it, Tweek?" Tweek nodded, frowning. "Then there's nothing to worry about!"

"H - huh?"

"Tweek, I am the awesome Stripe. I am a man. I can survive _anything_. And even if you drop me, Craig won't hate you because he knows it was an accident. You would never hurt me on purpose, Tweek, and Craig knows that. So hold me."

Craig brought the guinea pig closer to Tweek, merely two inches from the spaz's face, but Tweek still looked hesitant yet more willing he just needed another push.

"Please?" Craig said, not in Stripe's voice but in his own.

That was enough because Tweek brought his hands up and allowed Craig to place Stripe on them. At first, the blond was trying to shake too much out of nervousness, but then Stripe started rubbing his head onto Tweek's palm and settled onto the hands quite nicely. Within minutes, Tweek no longer shook and was smiling, quietly giggling at how adorable and manly Stripe was.

From then on, whenever he came over, Tweek would greet Stripe like he always did, and then he would take the guinea pig out and hold him.

Craig made sure to give Stripe an extra treat for being a man.


	10. Star Gazing

**10\. Star Gazing**

It was during the middle of spring when the little mountain town of South Park was the victim of a blackout. No lights or electricity, and there wasn't any light anywhere but in the sky. Maybe it was just a coincident or something stupid Cartman or Randy did, but that night had one of the most beautiful night sky of all times. It was amazing just how many stars were up there, like a flurry of glitter on a black background, and many people saw it, assembling at the park for a better view. When there was enough people, someone brought out a grill and there was town held star gazing party. Literally everyone was there, give or take a few people who needed life support.

"Wow, I didn't know that the sky could look like this," Stan said, sitting with the other boys in town in a grassy patch. "It's, like, the entire universe or something."

"It so gay," Cartman commented, sounding just as amazed. Despite the fact he was a bad mouthing, anti - Semitic, he was still a fourth grader, and shit like this was still interesting. "I love you guys."

Everyone looked at Cartman, a little weirded out. "The fuck?" Kyle said, beyound confused, but the fat boy paid no mind to it so everyone went back to looking at the sky. Kenny laughed and muffled 'Cartman, you're so gay,' in the background.

"Th - the stars l - look so big!" Tweek said several feet away, sitting with Craig, Token and Clyde. "Wh - what if they fall out of th - the sky or so - something?! Oh my god! Ack!"

"Woah, calm down, Tweek," Token said, patting the blond on the back. Craig wrapped an arm over his boyfriend's shoulder in comfort. "It's all good, man. Those stars are too far away from Earth. The only star that could even get close would be a shooting star, and even that's far away."

"Th - there's going to be a shooting?! JESUS CHRIST!"

"Nah," Clyde said, getting some chocolate M&amp;M's. "Shooting _star_, Tweek. It's really cool. My dad said if you see a shooting star and make a wish, your wish is going to come true. I can't wait to see one. I want to wish for a hundred girlfriends."

Token rolled his eyes at his friend's stupidity. "That's a waste of a wish."

"What would you wish for then? You can't judge me. You have Nicole."

"I would wish for my mom to get a promotion so we can finally take that trip around Europe the entire summer."

"Pssh, that's lame, Token. Hey, Craig, Tweek, what would you wish for?"

Craig made careful eye movements from the sky to Clyde, silent and expressionless as usual. "A new wheel for Stripe," the chullo wearing boy answered curtly.

"Why didn't I expect anything else?" Token asked rhetorically. "What about you, Tweek?"

"M - me?" Tweek asked, twitching a little. "N - ngh - nothing. Probably - gah - a new wh - wheel for St - stripe too."

"That's what Craig wants though," Clyde said, confused. "You don't have anything for yourself, Tweek?"

Tweek shook his head frantically. Clyde looked as if he wanted to say something, but he noticed he ran out of chocolate. "I need to get more candy," he said, getting up and heading towards the adults.

"I'm going to grab a burger," Token said, a little hungry. "You guys want anything?"

Both Tweek and Craig shook their heads, and the black boy ran to catch up with Clyde.

"You don't have to wish for a new wheel for Stripe," Craig said now that they were alone. "Wish something for yourself, Tweekers."

"B - but I have n - ngh - nothing to wish for," Tweek replied honestly. "I ha - have Mom and D - dad and all th - the -gah- coffee I n - need. An - and there's To - Token and Clyde and St - Stripe, and most im - importantly, I have - ngh - you."

The last part, a smile delightful smile found its way onto the spaz's face, happy that he had all those people in his life. With them, there was really nothing he wanted because they were enough. Life sure was hard for someone who twitched and flinched unconsciously and had an unhealthy dependence with caffeine, but at least he had something to anchor himself and keep him from screaming his lungs out and and bursting into tears for no reason. Tweek had a lot of time by himself to think, and though he was only in fourth grade, he was smart. He knew it was best just to have someone there, and he had family, friends and a boyfriend (with a guinea pig) who could do just that.

It must have been the atmosphere or the awesome looking sky, but Tweek was the calmest he had been in years, looking up at the stars with Craig's arm wrapped around him. He didn't notice the mild look of surprise on his boyfriend's face because he saw a rogue light streaming across the night sky in a blink of an eye. "L - look!" he shouted, pointing at the passing shooting star. "M - make - gah - a wish, C - Craig!"

But Craig didn't wish for a new wheel for Stripe. In fact, he didn't even make a wish at all. Instead, he made a promise with that shooting star, which was pretty much like making a promise with the entire universe. It was a very big thing for a mere fourth grader to do, but he was going to make it happen. He just hoped the stars were on his side for it because if they stood in his way, he was willing to tear through them.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_I'm going to marry this boy._


	11. New Year

**11\. New Years**_ requested by gaww_

It was New Year's Eve, and Tweek was staying over at the Tucker house, something that happened often and vice versa. Both Criag and Tweek were sitting in the living room, watching whatever news channel that showed people celebrating and waiting for the new year. Mister and Missus Tucker were sitting quietly on the couch with Ruby, listening to people cheer on the screen front he top of their lungs, half drinks and the other half stupid.

That New Year's Eve was all in all mediocre as everyone in the country waited out for midnight. Then finally, there was only less than a minute left before 12 AM into the New Year, and everyone on TV was counting down the last ten seconds.

_Ten . . .nine . . . eight . . ._ Missus Tucker turned over to her husband, and Mister Tucker turned around to his wife _. . . seven . . . six . . ._ Tweek looked over his shoulder and watched the two lean towards each other with unusually soft smiles _. . . five . . . four . . . three . . ._ Tweek realized his own parents done this before and turned towards Criag _. . . . two . . one . . . Happy New Year!_

Criag was pulled by his shoulder and he was kissing his boyfriend on the mouth, hitting each other on the teeth almost painfully. Oddly, he didn't mind as the people on TV screamed in celebration.

At that moment, he was soooooooooooo happy.


	12. Friendly Encouragement

**12\. Friendly Encouragement**

*Gregstophe-centric with Creek underlining theme

* * *

Not a lot of people noticed, but yeah, Craig and that crazy French kid, Christoph, were friends. It wasn't like they were close or anything; they just had a lot of tolerance for each other, even though neither actually annoyed the other in any way. Their relationship was like more like two guys casually talking about whatever over a can of beer (not that either of them drink because they are only in elementary school still, though that probably didn't matter since one of them actually _smokes_). Yeah, they were friends, and sometimes, they asked each other for advice.

"'ow did you get wiz your blond?" Christoph asked, cigarette hanging from his lips. This meeting, like any of their other meetings, was on the weekend, outside of school and unplanned. They just happened to cross paths and sat down on a bench. It was a weird friendship, really, because neither of them pay attention to each other at all during recess and they had different fourth grade classes.

Craig shrugged, flipping the French off for a moment. "Just told him I liked him," he said, "and he said yes. It wasn't hard."

Christophe hummed. "Do you zink zat will work of Gregory?"

"Yardale? I don't know. I'm pretty sure he jacks off to musicals. That makes him pretty gay, so maybe. You have to try to know."

"Ze musicals. 'e is really into zat, but maybe I should do somezing romantic."

"Like what, flowers? Gay."

'Ha, zis is coming from someone with a boyfriend? You're fucking retarded, Tucker, like your beetch God."

"Hardy har har, DeLorn. Just get the guy a flower or a DVD copy of RENT or whatever crap muscial there is. Just let him know you like him and see what happens."

Christophe took a long puff. "Meet me 'ere Wednesday after school?" he asked.

Craig glanced over to his friend with the shovel in blank surprise. They never planned to meet before, so the French kid must be really scared. "Hit him with your shovel," Craig said, offering a way out if it ended up in trouble.

The French kid snorted. "Maybe. So after school?"

"Yeah, whatever, man," Craig replied, flipping Christophe off once before getting off the bench and leaving.

Four days later, half an hour after school with Tweek in tow because they were going to hang out at the coffee addict's house later, Craig walked to Stark's Pond, just remembering he said he'd meet up with Christophe when he noticed the French kid wasn't in the cafeteria at lunch or that musical singing blond kid. Craig found Christophe sitting on the bench in from today the pond, an unlit cigarette in his mouth and several butts littered on the snow. It went badly.

"How it go?" Craig asked, motioning to Tweak to stand at the other side of the bench.

"I 'it 'im wiz my shovel," Christophe said, his cigarette falling to the ground. He look sullen and cold, like he'd been there for hours. Probably had. "'e said eet wasn't suppose to be zis vay, and I 'it 'im. 'e knocked out, and I left 'im in ze bathroom stall."

Craig frowned. He'd never heard Christophe talk so much without cussing at God before. "Tweekers," the blue chullo hat boy whispered, leaning towards the other side of the bench to his boyfriend, "I don't think I can leave DeLorn alone right now, so can we hang out another time? Sorry."

Tweek shook his head, looking as sad as Craig felt for Christophe. "I-its fine, C-craig, NGH," the blond replied as quietly, "but I th-thought -gah- that Gre-gre-gregory liked Chris-christophe."

Craig shrugged. "Maybe not that way. Be careful on your way home, okay?"

Tweek gave Christophe one long look before looking back to his boyfriend and nodded, heading back towards where they came from. Craig raised an eyebrow but decided to go back to his friend who was emotional right now.

* * *

There were seven boy's restrooms in the South Park Elementary, and Tweek had gone through at least five of them without any luck. Like what people thought, he and the blond English kid weren't friends, but Tweek hear enough gossip to know who likes who. Ever since he and Craig started dating, the girls in class have been trying to include him on stuff, like spreading rumors about other girls who they considered two-faced whores, talking about lists. It never made any sense to Tweek, especially why nobody likes Jessica Rodriguez. Was it because she was Mexican? They kept telling him she was a two-faced whore, but the spastic blond was sure she actually really nice and smart. He'd probably never know. Girls are weird, so it was a pretty good idea to date another guy, huh?

Anyway, one of the things Tweek heard from the girls was that Gregory Yardale had a crush on his best friend, Christophe DeLorn. Tweek didn't know much about the situation, but from what Craig mentioned to him ("DeLorn's gay for Yardale and wants to date him."), it didn't make sense for Gregory to reject Christophe.

It was in the sixth boy's restroom that Tweek found the restroom stall Christophe spoke about. Gregory was passed out on the floor, no blood luckily, and Tweek started to shake the other blond boy. "H-hey!" the spaz shouted. "W-wake -ngh- up!"

Gregory started to open his eyes a moment later, groaning. "What happened?" the English kid asked, pressing his hand to his face. His accent was still as strong as ever. "Christophe?"

"N-ngh-no. It's T-t-tweek. Why -gah- did you re-re-reject Chris-christophe?! I -ngh- though y-you liked him! A-all the g-gah-girls sa-say you d-do!"

Gregory frowned. "I didn't rejected him. I do like Christophe. He's my best friend and greatest asset. I told him this wasn't how it was suppose to be."

"What y-you sa-ngh-say that for?! That does-doesn't sound -gah- like y-you like him at -gah- all."

"Is that why he hit me with his shovel? No, I meant it wasn't suppose be him asking me out; it should've been me. I've been planning to do so for a month already, and I had things planned. The girls helped me out because they thought it was romantic. I got upset that I waited too long that he ended up asking me first."

Tweek frowned. "Th-that's stupid, G-gah-gregory," the coffee addicted blond said. "Well, y-you bet-better g-gah-go tell him th-that! C-craig's with -ngh- him right n-ngh-now at St-stark's Pond. We were s-suppose t-to hang out -ng- today! Y-you better f-fix this -gah- problem, man, be-before sun-sunset because C-craig's really n-nah-nice and cares ab-about his friends! If you d-dont g-gah-get this dealt with, I'm g-gah-going to find Chris-christophe s-someone else t-to be his boy-boyfriend!"

Gregory frowned at that. "Is that a threat?"

Tweek growled, pointing to the door. "C-call it fre-friendly encouragement, man. N-ngh-now g-gah-go!"

Taking Tweek's word as such, Gregory quickly ran out of the restroom stall, Tweek following right after. They stopped at Gregory's locker for a moment, where the English kid took out a small black box and stuffed it in his pocket. "Do you think Christophe will hit me with his shovel again?" Gregory asked as they continued towards Stark's Pond.

"May-maybe that's just h-how he for-forgive you," Tweek replied, and Gregory laughed, bidding in agreement.

When they arrived at Stark's Pond, the blonds spotted their little brunette loves sitting on the bench, not talking or looking at each other. Tweek stayed two steps behind as Gregory walked towards Christophe.

"Christophe," Gregory called out, and both brunettes turned over. The French kid frowned, gripping his shovel as he looked the other way. Craig watched carefully, not moving away or closer to Christophe in a silent, protective way. "Don't be mad. You've completely misunderstood me earlier."

"What's zere to misunderstand?" Christophe asked bitterly, still not looking at Gregory. "You don't like me. Eet's fine. You don't 'ave to. I don't care anymore, you English bastard."

Gregory sighed, standing right in front of Christophe rather than taking the empty space between him and Craig in the bench. He sighed, and then pulled out the little black box from earlier, holding it out towards the French kid. "Open it, Christophe," Gregory said. Christophe ignored him. "Please?"

Christophe glanced over with his eyes before turning to face the English kid. Releasing his hand from the death grip on his his shovel, he pulled the lid up on the box. Inside, side-by-side, were two smaller boxes that took half the space each, both polishes for wood and metal respectively. They were gifts, which surprised everyone else.

"I got these for you," Gregory explained, "because your shovel is one of the things you love most. I wanted to give these to you before everything that happened today. I wanted to be a man and tell you that I like you first, bit you beat me to the punch. I'm not rejecting you. I really do like you, Christophe. Forgive me?"

Christophe's expression was a mix between happy and upset, his grip loosened entirely off his shovel now. "Close your eyes, Gregory," the French kid said finally.

Tweek saw Gregory hesitate a moment, probably worried about being hit with a shovel again, but he did it anyway. Craig got off the bench just as Christophe leaned forward and kissed Gregory on the cheek, as if to get away from the gay Europeans.

Gregory burst out laughing as he opened his eyes, Christophe now crossing his arms in sheepish embarrassment, and he took the empty space on the bench next to his little French love. "You're a stupid beetch, like your beetch God," Christophe muttered, taking Gregory's gift to him and pocketing them. "You stupid English bastard."

"_Your _stupid English bastard, aren't I?" Gregory asked with a smile, pressing closely as he held Christophe's cold hand in his still warm from running ones.

Christophe hummed, pressing another kiss on Gregory's cheek. He looked so much happier now. "My stupid English bastard."

"Bye, DeLorn," Craig said, waving a hand at Christophe as Tweek pulled him towards his house as the sun set.


	13. School Shooter

*Canon-typical violence and satire

* * *

It was almost lunchtime at South Park Elementary, and there was some stupid ass motherfucker with a huge gun to make up his lack of confidence standing in Mr. Garrison, aforementioned teacher already fled the scene with the shout of, "I'm not going to die in this goddamn school!"

Taking this as a sign to get the fuck out, almost every student ran out of the classroom, much to the gunman's surprise, and almost all of them got out before the police came and evacuated the entire school. Dozens of cops cars surrounded the area, and spectators were watching from across the street. A few expressed concern and fear, and others sneaking up on camera of whatever mainstream media channel was there to pick up the coverage.

The few fourth grades students that were still stuck in the same room with the gunmen were Kenny McCormick, Stan Marsh and Tweek Tweak. There was someone waiting for each of them outside, almost tearing their hairs out in worry and fear.

"You have go and get Stan!" Kyle shouted, pleading with a deputy. There were tears running down his cheeks, Butters doing no better as the blond was sobbing into his mother's shoulder. Missus Broflovski was trying to comfort and assure her son but failing miserably.

"Mom, Kenny's going to die," Butters said, upset.

"Boys, boys," an officer tried, "everything's going to be alright. We have this entirely under control. We're feeling our best to stop this gunmen and doing everything we can to get your little friends back."

"Then hurry up," Craig said out of nowhere, the first thing he had said since he ran out with everyone else. He wasn't crying or anything, only looking more expressionless and sounding more toneless. His stare was making the officer nervous. "I don't care what you have to say as much as what you do. Lie to us all you want, but my boyfriend's in there and I want him out of that crazy asshole's sight an hour ago. So shut up and move your ass or I'm going in there myself. I've killed a werewolf before, so I can be crazy enough to go at some guy with a gun."

"Al-alright," the officer said, faltering for a moment as he stepped away. "Right to it."

The officer disappeared behind the rows of cops cars, leaving the three boys alone with their parents. "Aren't you worried, Craig?" Butters asked, feeling a lot better listening to Craig talk.

"Yeah," Kyle added, wiping his eyes. "Even a cool guy like me is crying for his best friend. Tweek's your boyfriend. I'd think you'd be the one to scream and kick at everything."

Craig shrugged. "I'll do that if he dies," he said, kicking at the snow under his feet. "He better not die if the world knows what's good for it."

They waited in silence afterwards, watching and hoping.

Stan's eyes flickered, following the gunman as he paced across the room. The gunman was muttering something, but Stan didn't understand it as he was paying attention to Tweek and Kenny, who were very quiet too though the former teaching loudly here and there. They had almost been in there for an hour, and the gunman wasn't letting up, looking more dehydrated and frantic by the minute. The police had spoken to him several times by microphone, but the gunmen had responded with curt "Fuck you!"

"Hey," Stan tried, not moving a muscle when the gunman turned to him with gun pointing at a bad direction, "can we go now?"

"The fuck?" the gunman said. "What do you think I am, punk? Some kind of loser or something? That's what they all say, but I'll show them."

"I don't think shooting up an elementary school will show them anything, man. Should've gone to a college."

"Yeah, but everyone fucking loves kids. If I kill you, they'll cry and plaster my name and face all over the fucking place."

"No, really. Your only options here are the poorest kid in school, a coffee addicted spaz and a self-righteous asshole. You're probably doing everyone a favor."

The gunman didn't look happy. "Alright," he said, loading up his gun. "Let's make it mean something then.

Tweek screamed when the gun was pointed right at him. "OH, GOD, NO!" he shouted, shaking in his seat. "D-don't kill -gah- me!"

"Hey!" Stan shouted, feeling just as scared. "What are you doing?!"

Kenny muffled out a protest as well. Holy shit, they might all die, but only one of them is Kenny.

"Name one person who will miss you if you die, spaz," the gunman said, focusing on Tweek. "Headline: School Shooter Hands Out Mercy. Now tell me who the fuck would miss you and why."

Tweek flinched, Stand and Kenny giving him warning looks to answer the questions. Maybe nobody will die. Who knows? Weirder shit has happened in South Park.

"Craig!" Tweek answered loudly all of the sudden. "H-he's -ngh- my boyfriend!"

"Aw, isn't that cute?" the gunman mocked, gun still pointing at Tweek. Then the gun was pointed at Stan. "You get to live, spaz. Now you, short stuff."

Ha ha, how edgy and ironic. Stan frowned for a bit. "What you don't have a boyfriend or something like the spaz?" the gunman questioned. "Well, spit it out, dipshit!"

"Kyle," Stan answered slowly. "He's my best friend, and we've known each other since kindergarten."

The gunman turned to Kenny. "And you?"

Kenny muffled an answer.

"What? I don't understand you."

A louder muffled response.

The gunman frowned. "kid, spill it before I kill you. What the fuck would care if you died?!"

An even louder muffled response.

"Fuck it."

A bang, and both Tweek and Stan screamed. "Oh, my god, you killed Kenny!" Stan shouted, some blood sprayed on his desk.

"Y-you -gah- BASTARD!" Tweek finished, crying. "HOLY CRAP! I-I don't -gah- want t-to die! I wa-want gah-go home! WHERE'S THE COFFEE?!"

Tweek was hit with the front of the gun, and he quiet down, touching the blood running down the side of his head. "Shut up, spaz!" the gunman ordered, pacing back and forth now. He was starting to regret killing the parka kid.

"Shit, Tweek, are you okay?" Stan asked, reaching over to Tweek, who was barely moving with wide eyes. Gun was back on him.

"Don't fucking move, or you're next, kid."

Stan got angry. "Look, you stupid asshole," he shouted, "congratulations, you shot a fourth grader. How do you feel now? Does this makes you less of a loser or something? Well, you fucked yourself, because if they don't put on death role for shooting up a school, they're going to throw you in prison, and prisons hate people who kill kids. They going to fuck your ass so hard you won't be able to stand until they kill you themselves. What does it matter that your name and face will be on the fucking news?! Dumb pictures of homeless dogs are on the news and people care more about the damn dogs! Are you at least mentally unstable or something?! If you're not, you're not going to be that entertaining! And this is small school, you dumb fuck! Nobody cares if a kid dies or two because there's always a dead kid somewhere. So what if everybody calls you a fucking loser? Shooting up a school won't prove you aren't one! Should've been smarter and kill the people who called you a loser in the first place. At least when you get jailed, they'd be dead. But no, you had to go for defensiveness kids because you're a fucking loser! Do us both a favor, you son of a bitch, and off yourself already!"

And as typical a school shooting story could go, a bullet went right through the gunman's head, the shot coming from outside. A small circular hole could be seen in the window the gunman stood in front of as Stan yelled at him.

There was silence. And then Stan go up and pulled Tweek out for the classroom and out the front door of the school, neither of them speaking but both trembling.

A bunch of cops ran past them on the way out, ignoring them for the most part. Stan started crying, and Tweek just stood there, a hand pressing against the bleeding wound he received just moments ago. "Mommy!" the raven boy sobbed, as he saw his parents rushing towards him.

"Oh, my baby boy!" Missus Marsh cried out as she picked her son in a tight hug, her husband coming right next to her. The Broflovski were there too, Kyle unconsciously grabbing at his father's pants leg, relieved to see his friend.

Tweek was pulled away from the scene when a medical aid took him to take care of the bleeding, his parents already there to see for themselves that their son was safe and sound now. "Tweek, what did he do to you?" Missus Tweak said, crying softly as Mister Tweak placed an arm around her in comfort.

The spaz didn't reply as he but his bottom lip. He didn't want to talk about it. It was so scary. He thought he was going to die. He didn't want to die.

"Tweekers," a familiar voice called out to him. "Tweekers, are you okay?"

Tweek looked at Craig, who had his arms and higher resting on the balcony of the ambulance. The blond just shook his head, still trembling. Craig climbed up, taking a close seat next to his little love and hugged him, burying his face in Tweek's shoulder.

"I thought you were going to die," Craig confessed, sniffling as he started to cry. "It was so scary, Tweekers. I don't want you to die."

And before Tweek could process what happened, he started to cry too.


End file.
